Dancing Queen
by albe-chan
Summary: AU-y.NextGen. Lorcan Scamander both loves and loathes having a twin. Because, when you had that person who completed you, was essentially half you, there was always some bastard trying to take him away. Lysander/Lorcan.SLASH.ONESHOT.TWINCEST.SMUT.SEX.BDSM


**Dancing Queen**

**DISCLAIMER: **I do NOT own Harry Potter, or any of the characters mentioned in this story, unless stated otherwise. Rated for possible sexual content, violence and language. Reader discretion is advised. Any similarities to real life are purely coincidence and I will not be held responsible! Thanks!

_**WARNING:**_ WILL CONTAIN MATURE THEMES (sex, swearing, etc) and BDSM (kinkiness, bondage, discipline, etc) and SLASH (male on male) and TWINCEST (twins doing the nasty) and a LOT OF WARNINGS!! Ye be warned

**Author's Note: **so this is the Lysander/Lorcan (which I shall now refer to ask the Lycan pairing – look it's the new Snarry!) fic I mentioned in chapter seven of '_Never Again_', and it was vastly inspired by the simply divine Cheryl Dyson (read anything and/or everything by her people!) who did a gorgeously hot fic called '_Blondage'_. Now, onward to the sexing!! 'Shake, shake, shake your moneymaker, like you was shakin' it for some paper' Review? Please? Cheers!!

PS. – Definitely not a song fic, and a sort-of plot, LMAO. What more could you lot ASK for?

XXX

Lorcan both hated and loved his twin brother, much the same as almost any twin will tell you they feel about having a twin. Sure, there are perks, and for being human, there are an awful lot of them and some were especially sweet. But there are also downsides, and like the perks, they are twice as bad as any normal person's.

Because Lorcan knew that yes, while it was nice to have someone who looked just like you, you were invariably thought to be them. And while it was lovely if you could share things like clothes and meals and deep dark secrets, you also tended to share things like underwear, and lovers, which was just a pain in the ass for the tall lithe blond. But most of all, when you had that person who completed you, who was essentially _half_ you, there was _always_ some bastard trying to take him away.

It was almost indecent the way Lysander dressed at times…like when he was going to the club to 'socialize' (they certainly weren't the type to share clothes, not over Lorcan's dead carcass). At current, the young blond wore far-too-tight jeans that hung far-too-low on his hips, revealing at least three generous inches of toned, smooth flat stomach, before the bare necessity in keeping with the loose dress code compiled into what he supposed was his twin's shirt. It was really rather more of vest of sorts, buttoning up under a dipping neckline with scanty straps in the back.

Lorcan was clothed flawlessly in well-tailored trousers that could conceivably cut glass they were so neatly pressed and a suave dark coloured shirt, also ironed to maximum neatness, that complimented the angle of his jaw with his slicked back, perfectly tousled hair.

Lysander's hair was longer and currently plastered to his forehead as he danced under the harsh coloured lights. Lorcan forced himself to take a drink, unable to resist devouring his twin with his eyes. Goddamn it he would need all the booze he could get his hands on.

The more provocative of the pair let his hips sway to the deafening beat, grinning up at Albus Potter as if he, and not his father, had brought down the Dark Lord. Lorcan couldn't help but roll his eyes and take another long pull off his whiskey.

He finally managed to force his gaze to range out, along the lines of the other dancers' bodies, and eyed up a _decidedly_ fit Scorpius Malfoy with vague attentiveness. He was shorter than Lysander and himself, but just as blond and twice as outrageous (he knew) as Lysander ever was. Hell, he'd been in Slytherin with the boy, and if sharing a dorm wasn't enough to know someone by, Lorcan didn't know what was. He also noted that Scorpius seemed to be glaring at his twin, and followed Malfoy's gaze until he saw why.

Lysander was all but melted to Albus, his hips still swaying and shimmying temptingly, his chest arched and pressed to the dark haired man's body. Albus' hands were on Lysander's arse. Lorcan grinned, knowing what was coming, and wasn't disappointed in the slightest when a distinctly annoyed-looking Scorpius wove his way over and tapped his Gryffindor counterpart on the arm.

The lover's quarrels between the two had been the stuff of Hogwarts legend (most especially the one involving the Quidditch locker rooms, a broken broom and one too-tiny towel). The music drowned out the voices, but Lorcan could tell, by the fact people around them faltered in their own dancing and shuffled backward, out of the way, that things were heated.

Albus was shaking his head, as if to deny whatever his sometimes-lover, sometimes-arch-rival was saying, one hand still on Lysander's arse. Lorcan spotted two burly security personnel making their way over, and sighed. Once more, he would be counted upon to swoop in and save his twin from a situation he was tangled up in.

He parted through the crowd faster than the two larger men, but he could still see the mass of people shifting and moving as he approached, and quickened his pace. "Let's go," he said in a low voice against Lysander's ear, pleased to see the little shiver of recognition tremble through his brother.

Lysander pouted adorably. "You're no fun," he accused. Lorcan's mouth tightened.

"Unless you want to get chucked out of here for the next month, then you'll just do as I tell you for once."

Lysander grinned cheekily, but refrained from commenting, even as Lorcan mentally berated himself. "Oh I _always_ listen to my big brother," Lysander purred as he followed the pressure on his arm and slipped into the crowd with his twin. It was really amazing how little there were alike for looking so similar at times.

By the time they Apparated to the spacious, comfortable downtown flat they called home, the clock was showing it was after two, and Lorcan was ready for bed. Lysander, however, was not.

"Merlin, why d'you have to be so _boring_ Lorcan?" he murmured, pulling his brother close after they gulped in fresh oxygen to fill their burning lungs.

"Because you're so flighty and unpredictable. One of us needs to be anchored in reality, Lysander," he replied, his tone harsher than he meant.

The blond looked at him for a moment then pulled away roughly, turning to the stereo and perusing the library of music. He absently tapped the device with his wand and far-too-loud music blared from the speakers.

Lorcan pointedly put his hands over his ears; the nightclub had already given him a throbbing headache (along with the booze) and he just wanted peace and _quiet_. "Lysander," he began, but his brother merely cast him a disdainful look and turned up the music. Lorcan sighed and went to the bedroom, still able to hear the loud bass of his brother's preferred listening tastes over the pounding of his headache. "Goddamn it," he muttered, going to the closet and wrenching the door open. He rifled around before sighing and unbuttoning his shirt. Damn Lysander for being so damn stubborn and tempting…damn him.

Lysander was slouching on the couch, flicking too fast to be believable through a magazine, not bothering to look up as he heard Lorcan walk through the living area, draw the curtains over the one window wall and then pause beside the stereo. His gaze flicked up when he sound went down, and he opened his mouth angrily to retort, but nothing came out of his mouth.

His twin almost laughed. But now wouldn't be the time for laughing. So instead he simply murmured, "You're going to wake the neighbours with your music up so loud at two am y'know." The magazine slipped to the floor and Lysander continued to stare. "Lysander?"

The longer haired of the two suddenly burst into laughter and Lorcan scowled. So much for trying to be a nice brother! He huffed and made to stalk off, just as he had done when they were little and Lysander told him to go away because he wasn't pretty enough to come to his tea party, but then Lysander was off the couch and reaching for his hand, slight frame shaking with barely concealed mirth. "I don't mean to laugh," he snickered.

"Then why are you?" Lorcan accused. He hated, simply fucking _loathed,_ being laughed at, and his twin knew it. Lysander let his hands slid up and down over his twin's midsection soothingly before replying.

"Because I'm shocked. This is definitely _not_ boring." His right hand slid lower to cup the very obvious bulge in the front of Lorcan's deliciously short shorts as his left stroked through his twin's hair and he lead Loran to the nearest wall.

"Good," Lorcan replied, reaching down to grip Lysander's hips, grinding the hard length of his cock against the other blond's own erection, impatient as always.

Lysander pulled away after a woefully short but still molten kiss and undid the two buttons on his vest-y-shirt, slipping it off his shoulders while he turned to the hallway entry. "Coming?" he asked, with a wink and a giggle, tossing his top aside. Lorcan followed, swatting Lysander's hands away and unbuckling his brother's belt reverently.

He was pissed as hell, but he knew the way to victory, and would follow it. By being as underhanded, dirty, and manipulative and Slytherin as possible. A relatively simply act for the gorgeous platinum haired young man, so he dropped to his knees without preamble and unzipped his brother's jeans.

The younger (if only by a few minutes) of the pair gasped and his fingers clenched in tufts of hair the same shade as his own as Lorcan traced the thick outline of his cock with first his finger, and then his tongue, dampening and warming the thin cotton underpants in places. Pre-come dribbled down the throbbing head of his cock as those _fingers_ and that fucking _tongue_ kept tracing over his prick and grey eyes, made roiling by lust, looked insolently up at him.

It was payback and Lysander knew it, but his need was too sharp to let him care much. "Fuck," he huffed, fingers clenching punishingly in that silken blond hair then yelped as teeth scraped roughly over his prick.

"D'you want me to finish you off here, or in the bedroom?" Lorcan asked, the look in his eyes challenging. He hoped his twin would pick bedroom, because then he would show Lysander just how _un-_boring and how much of a sodding tease _he_ could be (though the idea of sucking him off right here in the hall had merit as well, despite what his knees thought).

Lysander, like a good sibling, rasped out, "Bedroom," and Lorcan leered into him, catching his lips in a mouthwateringly hot kiss that sent flames through Lysander's veins and roared the smoldering of his lust into a towering blaze. Through the haze of delirious arousal and kisses, they made it to the bedroom and Lorcan managed to pry his mouth away from Lysander's for more than five seconds. He hadn't forgotten the sight of his brother practically dry-humping Albus fucking Potter, and he wanted revenge.

"Get undressed," he growled at Lysander, spanking him lightly as incentive, "and then I want you on your hands and knees on that bed."

Lysander almost covered his grin as he wriggled out of his underpants (his jeans were somewhere by the doorway) and climbed onto the big bed.

Lorcan turned around and grinned, watching his twin's eyes fall to the objects in his hands that he had retrieved from the closet. In one hand, the delectably dreaded paddle, in the other, Lysander's very own, personal bitch collar. The little pendant with the L twined on it swung back and forth with every step Lorcan made toward the bed. He paused at the side, cock twitching as he looked at his twin, on his knees and elbows for him and him alone, completely naked and looking like the personification of the term 'orgasm without stimulation'.

"You get to choose Lysander," he said smoothly, grinning as the other blond's hand twitched toward the paddle almost automatically. Then he paused, looked into Lorcan's eyes, took a deep breath and wrapped his hand around the smooth leather of the collar. The elder of the pair nearly came in his ridiculously tight leather shorts, at the sight of those long-fingered, pale hands fondled the edge of the circle of leather.

Setting the paddle aside, he unbuckled the collar and leaned toward Lysander, capturing those parted lush pink lips that looked every inch _absolutely fucking edible_, tongue impatient and in control as it speared into his brother's mouth, wrenching a hoarse grunting moan of pleasure.

Practice made Lorcan's fingers swift and nimble as he re-buckled the epitome of capitulation around his other half's neck. The pads of his fingertips and thumbs fanned down, smoothing over the abrupt, pale line of collarbones across the generous breadth of shoulder, then back up across the metal studs on the collar to cup Lysander's face. He pulled back, panting as Lysander tried to reclaim Lorcan's tongue's invasion of his mouth. Instantly, his cock throbbed as heat rushed his fingers and toes and scalp, tingling his skin; the picture of Lysander staring up at him hungrily, hair rumpled and sticking up in a poor mockery of that fucker Albus' bloody buggering hair, the black strip around his throat contrasting radiantly with his palest peach skin burning directly into his retinas like a permanent enhancement of his vision.

"Jesus fucking Merlin," he growled, cock thrumming with need and coating the inside of his shorts with pre-come. Lorcan thrust the clothing down forcibly and traced his twin's parted lips with the weeping head of his cock, gasping as Lysander's pink tongue slid out to taste him. "You know you deserve to be punished, don't you?"

Lysander shivered as electric need sparked from ass to cock to prostate and back. He was sure he had never been this fucking turned on before. "Yes," he whispered. His tongue wriggled into the little slit at the top of Lorcan's impressive cock's head and was rewarded with more bittersweet pre-ejaculate.

Lorcan's smirk was almost sadistic as he rubbed Lysander's cheek and ran his fingers through overlong hair the colour of perfectly sun-bleach corn silk, eyes shining, and then, as he pulled his member away, eliciting the expected whimper, he brought the paddle down hard on Lysander's perfect round arse, morphing the whimper into a sharp yelp before trailing off to a groan. "Ohh…Lorcan…"

"You know what to call me naughty boy," Lorcan cooed softly before bringing the paddle down again, leaving a wide stripe across the join between ass and thighs now, smirking. He was rewarded with another throaty moan and gasp of pained pleasure and his own manhood jerked desperately in tandem. Lorcan spread his legs and sank further down as Lorcan brought the paddle down a third time and had to bite his lip at the moan that dared to slip out as his twin writhed in tormented ecstasy, calling out.

"Yes, Master," he panted, "yes, yes, yes…"

"Mmm good boy. You know how hard it makes me when you address me properly," Lorcan replied gently, rubbing the thick shaft of his prick between Lysander's splayed cheeks. His fingers toyed languidly with the collar before he gripped it tighter and Lysander gasped, part in shock, partly in arousal. He could still breathe, but he felt dizzy and too close to orgasm to think coherently.

"Master…please… Mmm, Godric fucking Gryffindor, I need to come," he panted, hating the whine in his tone.

Lorcan smoothed his hands over the red of Lysander's arse, making his twin his and arch. "I don't think so, not yet," he replied softly, leaning down to press the indentation of his teeth into his brother's delectable buttock, drawing out Lysander's shuddering cry of need. He sighed, reaching around the other young man's hip and gripping the base with easy familiarity. Applying a slight amount of pressure, Lysander felt both the ebb of imminent completion and a stab of annoyance that he wasn't going to get fucked yet.

He'd know it would be stupid to dance with Albus Potter like that but… Well Lorcan had hardly paid him any attention once they'd arrived to the club, and had refused to dance with him, so he had simply taken up another's offer. It wasn't _his_ fault really that Potter smelled so good and laughed easily and had a fucking _gorgeous_ body! Though he had to admit, when his doppelganger-esque brother licked an inordinately fiery trail from his balls to the pucker of his arse before circling the rim with a leisurely groan, he much rather preferred blonds.

"Please," he whispered, canting his hips backward and bowing his back in a double plea, "Fuck, Master…Lorcan… Ohh, ohh fuck, please…"

Lorcan didn't bother to answer verbally, instead twisting and swirling his tongue deeper into the entrance of his brother's ass, bordering the line of penetration. Lysander's moans made his cock jump and twitch agonizingly and he was half tempted to finish his twin brother right then and there. But the sight of Albus' hands on Lysander's arse, _his_ arse, flared up.

"Turn over," Lorcan demanded, sitting up as the other blond hurriedly complied, spreading his legs like a wanton whore and forcing a smirk from Lorcan, lopsided and greedy. A softly muttered spell and lubed, slick and greasy, coated the elder's fingers and he pressed them gently to Lysander's puckered opening sliding a single digit into the tight, incredible, _oh my fucking god_ heat. Lysander writhed deliciously, the tip of his brushing Lorcan's chin as he twirled his finger and pressed it deliberately into his brother's prostate, smiling at the bucking hips that tried to impale themselves on his finger.

"Ohh, oh, don't stop, please, please fucking Merlin, don't _stop_!" Lysander was vaguely aware that he was rambling, but it was with a very separate part of his brain, as a large portion was currently centered on the finger grinding into his prostate – _harder, faster, more_ – and the second digit probing at his entrance. "Ooh, fuck, fuck, _fuck yes_, mmm… yes, Master, yes," he panted as his heart threatened to burst from his chest.

"Fuck, Lysander, you are too hot," Lorcan murmured, tonguing the throbbing maroon length of his younger brother's cock as he finger-fucked Lysander into an incoherent gasping and pleading mass. "Yes, I want to hear you, you dirty, naughty lad. Mmm…you want to come?"

Lysander could only groan and arch into the delicious sensations flooding every tiny particle of his being as a third finger slipped in, stretching and arousing him. "Lorcan…Lorcan, Lorcan…please," he gasped, lungs burning with the rapidity of his breathing. He couldn't seem to get enough air that wasn't scorched by the feeling his brother evoked in him.

The shorter haired man grinned and slithered up Lysander's pale, luminescent body that shone in the dim lighting, coated as it was in a thin sheen of perspiration, strands of sweat dampened hair sticking golden to his forehead, as they had been while he danced earlier. Lorcan's tongue traced the seam of his brother's panting, lightly swollen lips (from biting them to keep from whimpering like a fucking queen), before dipping to taste his identical twin's mouth.

And as their tongues tangled recklessly, hungry and passionately, hands smoothing over heated erogenous zones, a symphony of moans weaving their voices together into music, Lorcan paused with his cock poised at Lysander's entrance. "Tell me who you belong to Lysander," he panted, teeth busy nibbling at the blond's earlobe, breath coming hot and heavy into his ear.

"You, only you Lorcan," the replied, voice pitched higher with the acute almost-pain at his arousal.

"Yes," the elder hissed, sliding his throbbing erection into the tight, almost unbearably hot suction of his brother's well-lubed arse. He cried out, rising onto his elbows and lifting one of Lysander's limp legs to drape around his shoulders.

His thrusts were slow and deep, stretching him to the point where he thought he would explode from fulfillment. Lysander's head thrashed backward and forward on the pillow as the slow burn of penetration faded and it felt like his brother was thrusting against a silk lining inside him. "Yes…yes, harder...faster, Master…please," he murmured and Lorcan acquiesced, thrusting a little harder now, tilting his hips to angle his prick within his moaning twin, his cock jabbing hard against the blond's prostate.

"Fuck, you're so tight," Lorcan purred, rearing back slightly to fuck harder, deeper, _oh so much faster_, as Lysander demanded in a hoarse voice, every pant and throbbing heartbeat accompanied by a groan of ecstasy. "Come, Lysander. I want to see your face when you come for me…yes,"

His tongue flicked out to taste the skin just underneath the edge of his lover's collar, and Lysander lost himself, forcing his hips down on the hard, smooth length of phallus that probed him so fucking perfectly one last time before deep shudders forced his eyes shut and he let the burn of orgasm rip through him.

Lorcan gasped himself as he watched his brother climax, thrusting into the hard tight ring of muscle once, twice, before coming undone completely, spilling his seed deep into the still clenching hole, bucking spasmodically as Lysander milked him for every last drop.

Long pale limbs intertwined lazily on the soft sheets as the identical-looking blondes tried to reign in their wild gasps and frantic heart rates. "Mmm," Lysander finally murmured after a long moment, stirring under his elder brother's leaden limbs. "That was better than I expected."

Lorcan chuckled softly, rolling and pulling Lysander to himself. "Thank you…I think."

"Oh it was definitely a compliment. In fact I'd say that was downright unpredictable." A large, smug grin curved Lysander's full slightly pouting lips and Lorcan leaned in to kiss him.

"Prat."

"Maybe…but I'm _your_ prat."

"Indeed you are."

XXX

Lorcan sipped idly at his whiskey, trying to tune out the too-loud thrumming of bass in his ears. His eyes scanned the crowd for his younger twin brother and he spotted him easily, the colourful lights shining brighter on his dewy, sweat slicked skin and platinum hair.

Once again, Lysander was dressed in far-too-tight jeans and a mostly non-existent top, but Lorcan grinned when he saw the black collar peeking out from the ruffled neckline of the mock dress-shirt. He smoothed a hand from his hair as he let his eyes wander away from Lysander's hypnotizing movements, spotting Albus Potter's messy haired head easily, and smirking when he saw Scorpius Malfoy grinding against him erotically.

It was good that they'd gotten those things sorted out. At least it was one less red-blooded male in the place wanting a piece of Lysander's admittedly delicious arse. Invariably, his grey gaze shifted back to his twin, and he couldn't help but smile as Lysander met his eyes and winked, beckoning him forward.

_Ah, fuck it_, he thought, tossing back the last of his drink before making hi way through the crowds to wrap his arms around Lysander possessively. "Mine, he murmured against the other blond's ear.

"Yours," Lysander agreed, grinning and clenching Lorcan's tight ass as his hips swayed dangerously close to his suddenly too-tight trouser front. "Look at you, dancing. I thought you didn't dance, eh?"

Lorcan rolled his eyes, despite this statement being mostly true. He normally _didn't_ dance but…well with Lysander was a different case than any other time dancing was presented. "Of course, couldn't let all the other blokes fill my place."

Lysander giggled and wriggled closer in his brother's embrace, lips teasing against the smooth arc of throat. "And what place is that?" he whispered to his other half, lips ghosting over the shell of an ear.

"Well clearly you are the king on this dance floor, so I suppose that would be the place of the Dancing Queen." Lysander voiced his mirth again.

"And tell me, do I get to let this Dancing Queen take me home to ravage and plunder what little innocence I might have left?" he murmured, teeth nipping at earlobe.

Lorcan grinned and fingered the edge of Lysander's collar. _His _collar. _His_ brother and twin. _His_ lover. "Absolutely. Can we go now?"

"Mmm…one more song, Dancing Queen. I rather like that title, y'know…though I think _I_ should be the queen."

Lorcan chuckled and kissed him. "True. Because you are a queen and I fucking love your dancing." And despite the song not being over, they Apparated in the same heartbeat to their flat, away from prying eyes.

XXX

**Author's Note: **insomnia…not a writer's friend. I'm currently a little twitchy on too much caffeine, very tired, and am going to put off some direly important things to sleep. Had to finish this though…LOL, I wanted it out of the way. Anyhooters, I hope you lot enjoyed it! Nothing like a little gratuitous twincest slash, is there? ;D Review!? 'If you like to party, get on and move your body' Cheers!!

PS. - hmm, not OVERLY fond of the ending, but...meh, it's better than nothing and I'm too fucking tired to care. XP Tell me what you all thought?


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